


Love

by Bessie_2005



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst and Feels, M/M, episode tag: s02e20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 19:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bessie_2005/pseuds/Bessie_2005
Summary: Justin's thoughts during 2x20. Stream of consciousness. They don't belong to me.





	Love

**Love**

_Justin: He loves me._

_Brian: Your dreamy-eyed schoolboy._

_Justin: In ways you can't._

_Brian: In ways that I won't ._

 

His words hit me like a full body blow. It knocks the breath out of me. To know that this is what he thinks, that he really doesn’t care. That he doesn’t want to love me, that I’ve been fooling myself the last two years; that I convinced myself that no matter what he said, he really did care about me, that I knew better than all those people who had know him for years, but never got to see the Brian I saw, or thought I saw. The one that fell in love with his son at first glance; who was kind to me that first night, gentle with me, didn’t treat me like a child; who let me move in with him, came to New York to find me; who even came to my Prom. The Brian, who helped me after the bashing, got me back on my feet and back into the real world, who wouldn’t let me give up. But then, gradually, he disappeared. Maybe when I was so caught up in living my own life, being independent and able to take care of myself, Maybe when I was looking right at him; he just slipped away, slipped through my fingers and left me grasping at straws; searching for something that wasn’t there anymore to find, his love. That I used to be so sure he felt for me, even if he could or would never admit it; even if no one else believed me, or believed in him, or believed in us. I was somehow able to hang on to that belief that the love I believed in was true. But now … I can’t anymore. I can’t fight for this relationship, against everyone, everything and against Brian. I just can’t anymore. And what am I actually fighting for? Was it real? What I thought we had? Maybe he was never there in the first place, maybe I just fooled myself into believing that he felt the same way about me that I felt about him, maybe everybody else was right, who shook their heads at my naivety and said he couldn’t be counted on, that he didn’t do boyfriends, so love, or any of the other things that I was convinced he would do for me, because I knew better than them, I was “on to him”. Maybe it was all crap.

 

_Justin: He told me that I'm all he wants._

_Brian: They're still using that one?_

_Justin: It's more than you've ever said._

_Brian: It's more than I ever will._

 

I guess that gives me my answer. He won’t ever say it. Say anything, give me even a hint that he wants in this relationship; that he wants me around. That really is all I want. I just want some sign that I’m not fighting for this all on my own. That this, whatever we have, that changed my life, changed me is worth fighting for, that I’m not alone in this. That he wants me to keep trying, to keep fighting; or is he just pushing me until I reach breaking point and give up, give up on us, give up on him and prove his predictions right: that everybody leaves, that love is bullshit and not worth fighting for.

 

_Brian: So, what the fuck are you still doin' here?_

_Justin: Would you even care if I wasn't?_

_Brian: It's your call where you wanna be. You decide._

 

So he’s not going to even give me a hint, it’s all up to me? What I want? I want you to fight for me Brian!! I want you to prove that I’m worth it, that what we have is worth it, is worth all the pain and the loss and the fighting and struggling to get here. Cause if it’s not, if I’m not, then what the fuck are we doing? What the fuck am I doing here? Why did you raise my hopes, again and again, only to dash them on the rocks? Why did you say you wanted to come home to me, if you also wanted to be able to fuck whoever the fuck you want here? You wanted me to be here, yet still wanted your fuckpad, where you could do whatever, or whoever you wanted. You kept changing the rules on me, and I just had to figure it out as I went along, because you never talked to me, not really, not after the Zucchini Man, and those stupid rules. My way to try and have some say, some control over this relationship, as the rest of my life was spinning farther and farther out of control. I wanted something I could count on; I believed I could count on you, no matter what any one else said, even you, because I had seen you come through for your friends and your family, and for me. But the rules I made, those pathetic rules, didn’t really give me what I needed from you, and afterwards I didn’t know how to bring it up again, how to ask for what I really needed. Old me might have been able to, old Justin who was brave and sure and confident, so confident. But I lost that. I didn’t only lose my motor skills, my talent, for a while, my memories of the dance, but also that unshakeable belief in myself and what I knew, that enabled me to worm my way into your life, and I thought, your heart. That allowed me to speak up for myself, tell you that I needed you, that I wanted you. But afterwards, I couldn’t anymore. And I didn’t know how to tell anyone what was missing, how do you describe the loss of something so intangible, but which was so vital to who I was? Everyone else moved on, forgot about it, once I was physically healed. Even you moved on, told me to move passed it, because you wanted to, you wanted to forget what happened, and I get that. You were there. You remember, and you don’t want to; because I don’t. It was like I wasn’t even there, because I don’t remember, and so even though Daphne told me about it, it never had the same impact on me that it had on you, and you don’t know how to deal with that. I get it. But I can’t move passed, because I have to deal with it everyday, when my hand gives out because I’ve been going too long, but the inspiration is still there; when I wake up panting and terrified from nightmares, that I try to hide from you, cause you need me to be better, to be healed; when something triggers that panic or fear, something simple, something stupid, that I can’t tell anyone else about, because I don’t want their pity and they can’t possibly understand.

All these things I want to tell you, I want to explain; but you won’t let me, my fear won’t let me, I don’t know how. So I stay silent, as you walk away. And then I leave.

 

_Justin: I want to stay._

_Ethan: Well, you can't. You can't. So just go back to your boyfriend. And I'll go back to my violin._

 

I leave Ethan’s apartment building, walking through the cold streets. I ended up at Ethan’s, looking for something, I don’t even know what. Something to make me feel like I am worth fighting for, worth waiting for, that someone wants me just for me, someone who will love me, and not be afraid of it, or ashamed of it, or try to deny it. I just want some honesty, which is ironic considering that I am the one who has been lying left, right and centre, but I guess it was exciting, I felt wanted and desired and special, just for a little bit, until the guilt descended again, and pulled me down further in, until I couldn’t even see the way out anymore. I thought Ethan wanted me, could give me what I needed, that I wasn’t getting from Brian, but it doesn’t mean the same, I get that, because I don’t feel the same way about him, I don’t love him, but he loves me, and he’s not ashamed to say it. And some part of me needs that. Cause even though on some level I know it’s not true, it feels like … sometimes it feels more real when I can hear it. I know Brian has shown me in so many ways that he does care, but does he love me, or am I just convenient? I want to believe it’s more than that, I used to, but lately it feels like its just convenience, like we’re living two separate lives and just happen to live and sleep together. And I want more than that, I deserve more than that, because it’s become all about his convenience. And I can’t do it anymore. Something has to change, because if it keeps on going this way, I’m going to drown, just go under and lose myself and never come up for air again.

But not tonight. I’m too tired. I can’t make any decisions now, not rational ones anyway.

I look up to see I’ve walked all the way home, well back to Brian’s place, which is the closest thing to home that I have right now. I just want to go up and go to bed. Shut out the world, just for tonight; hope things will look better in the morning. Hope I don’t have any nightmares tonight, that I can actually sleep the night through.

 

I walk inside. It’s dark. Brian is here. That’s unusual. I really didn’t expect him to be here. I thought he would be out at Babylon tonight, as he has been every night this week. Now I’m starting to feel awkward. Should I even be here, will he even want me here? After tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised if he totally ignores me, or tells me to go sleep on the couch. It feels like we are back where we started, which feels like a lifetime ago. But as I get undressed, I see him hold the blanket up, invite me in and I’m too tired to question why, or what he might be thinking. I climb into bed, and as he curls his body around me, and wraps an arm around me, something about it feels so sad, like the end of something, like he is preparing for the end. And my heart begins to break, once and for all. Because this I know: I will never stop loving him, I don’t know how. But he is not going to fight for me, for us. And that means that what we shared is over, because if he won’t fight with me, then I don’t have the energy to do this anymore. As I lie there, feeling his body, his breath on my shoulder, smelling him, the tears slowly start sliding down my face. I lie there awake for hours, just memorising the way he feels, the way he smells. Because I do know him. I know Brian, and he is going to find some cliff to push me over, to protect himself from me leaving, which shows how little he actually knows me, because on my own, I probably wouldn’t leave, no matter how much it hurts. But I’m just too tired to fight him. So I’ll let him have his way. Let him set up his little scene, play my part. He’ll probably try and push me towards Ethan, and I’ll go; but deep down I know it won’t last. Fuck, maybe we need this time apart, maybe I need time to heal, or find myself again, and he needs time to decide what he wants.

 

As I drift off to sleep, my last thought is that I will never feel more loved, and cared for and protected than I do right now, right here, in his arms, where everything makes sense and the rest of the world has no meaning, where time doesn’t exist, where everything else just stops.


End file.
